I am still angry. When I watch footage of people hanging on for their very lives that day, I try and imagine that level of fear. Did they think we could possibly save them, and did not bother? Haunting, beyond what I can fathom or put into words.
I am surprised that I spent the last few days crying off and on, as I did not lose anyone that day. I spent that day in Arkansas. I am sure you all remember where you were on that day. I will also say that when the second plane hit, I knew it was terrorism, and I knew that this war would be fought for the rest of my life. I knew this was different.
Ten years after that cowardly attack, I know far too many widows, children without parents, and men and women who have been changed forever by protecting our nation for 10 years. I have been to Walter Reed and have heard patients say, “I just want to go back, and be with my platoon.” I am amazed every time I hear those words. “I need to go back.”
What makes me angry today? People not standing for The National Anthem. I do not think I have had a dry eye since Desert Storm when I hear it played. People asking me “When will your Husband get out?” “Aren’t you worried?” “Are we really doing any good over there?” “My Husband loves us way too much, he could never do that.” “I heard they are sending people home, he gets to come home right?” “Why does he do it?” “You know it is for oil right?”
They do it, because they love our country, and they love one another, and they want their children, and your children, and your grandchildren to be warless.
I am angry because a part of my heart simply thinks America has forgotten, that there are people who will hijack planes and fly them into buildings, there are people who want to kill us. How could you forget that?
I am angry because 1% of America serves this beautiful country every day, and people have forgotten.